Burt didn't want to watch. As a mentor it was always hard to watch your tributes fall, but this went far beyond that. Blaine was family. Burt wanted nothing more than to someday see his son marry the incredible, selfless boy they'd come to know. Instead, because of the Games, Burt was forced to watch the boy be brutally tortured by a sociopath. What was worse, Burt realized, was that Karofsky would become a mentor next year. Burt would be forced every year to interact with the man who destroyed his family. It made him sick to his stomach, and he wasn't the only one. People in the Capitol were rioting, calling for intervention from the Gamemakers to put a stop to this. Burt knew it was useless. From the Gamemakers' point of view, Karofsky had fairly won the swordfight against Blaine. There were no rules or guidelines about how tributes were allowed to kill each other. In previous years, the Capitol had always loved the more violent, bloody kills. They were more entertaining. This year something had changed. Blaine had gotten into everyone's heads and hearts and for the first time the audience was fighting to change the Games. As Karofsky dragged the knife across Blaine's skin, Burt wished it wasn't hopeless.

Blaine wanted to throw up. While Karofsky was cutting up his face, the smell of blood was making his stomach churn. As it ran down his face, Blaine felt it drip into his mouth and he started to gag. Karofsky was still kneeling on his chest so all Blaine could do was turn his head to the side. All that came up was bile mixed with blood. Karofsky laughed while Blaine continued to cough, trying to expel what little food was in his stomach.

Kurt had his hands on his knees, struggling to catch his breath. He'd been running through the arena since Santana's death, trying to find Blaine again. A few minutes ago he'd heard the clash of metal on metal that had to mean Karofsky had already found Blaine, and that both had a weapon. It also meant they were close. Kurt had been trying to run in that direction, but the Gamemakers seemed determined to keep him from helping Blaine. He ran into dead ends over and over again. In his desperation, Kurt even tried to scale the wall but all he'd gotten out of it were some new bruises and a skinned knee. In a last ditch effort, Kurt tried appealing to the Capitol. He looked to the sky, hoping the cameras were focused on him, and begged them to please help him save Blaine.

Karofsky was in his element. This completely made up for the rest of his kills having to be done quickly. He had moved on from Blaine's face and was now slicing up the boy's shoulders and chest. He'd cut Blaine's jacket and shirt open and started drawing crude patterns in the boy's smooth chest. Every time Blaine would gasp or wince in pain Karofsky would make the next cut a little deeper hoping to force more pained sounds out of him. Karofsky pressed his palm on the fresh bruises across Blaine's ribs, making him cry out. He did this a few times, deciding that the boy's cries were far better than the music everyone kept going on about. Dragging the blade down Blaine's arm, Karofsky noticed his damaged hands for the first time.

“What happened here? Did you get too frisky with your boy toy?” He leered at Blaine and pressed hard on the palm of his hand until the boy cried out. From somewhere nearby, Blaine heard someone shout his name. Kurt was close. Blaine tried to keep quiet, hoping Kurt wouldn't be able to find them right now. But Karofsky had heard the shout too. He drove the knife through Blaine's palm, forcing the boy to scream in pain.

“Kurt RUN! Get out of here!” Blaine hoped more than anything that his boyfriend would turn and run in the opposite direction. Enraged, Karofsky twisted the knife, digging deeper into Blaine's palm, making him cry out again.

Blaine couldn't stop the tears this time. He hated himself for crying, for being weak. More than that, he hated himself for his failure. He knew Karofsky wouldn't keep his word. Blaine knew he deserved this. He'd taken 2 lives in the arena, and it had been for nothing. Kurt was still going to die. His self-loathing had reached an all-time high.

“Kurt, please. Please just go.” Blaine knew Kurt wouldn't hear his whispered pleas, and even if he could, he knew Kurt would never walk away when Blaine was in pain.

Karofsky watched appreciatively as tears slide down Blaine's face. He took the boy's face in both hands and pressed his thumbs into the corners of his eyes, smearing blood and tears across his cheeks.

“I promised I'd kill him quick. Don't you trust me?” Karofsky taunted Blaine as Kurt's voice grew louder.

Burt didn't even realize he was crying until Sue handed him a handkerchief. He reached out mechanically to take it, but didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. Sue took his hands in hers and they tried to find strength in each other like they did every year. All Burt could hope was that it would be over soon so he could go home. Back to the home he had built with Kurt and his mother. When his first wife died it had been unbearable to walk through the house that was so full of memories. Eventually the pain dulled and they rebuilt their lives. When Burt had married Carole, her and Finn moved in with them. It took a few months for the Hummels to adjust to sharing their home, but Burt couldn't bring himself to move. Now he loathed the idea of stepping foot into that house. Kurt's touch was in every room from the sophisticated decor he had insisted on to the height chart his mother started when he was born. How was he supposed to pick up the pieces of his broken life?

Karofsky was starting to get bored. He had enjoyed every moment of cutting up the boy on the ground, but he was ready to have fun with the boyfriend now. He was annoyed that it was taking the little faggot so long to find them. Karofsky yanked the blade out of Blaine's palm, smiling as he whimpered in pain. He forced the boy's hand open, holding it flat on the ground.

“Let's see you play piano like this.” He positioned the knife at the base of Blaine's ring finger and pinky and started pressing down. Blaine's eyes widened and he tried to pull his arm out of the larger boy's grasp. He couldn't hold back his scream when the knife dragged across the bone. Karofsky was actually going to cut his fingers off. Blaine's terror finally got the best of him and he started struggling hard, choking out sobs as tears ran down his face. No longer caring about his dignity, Blaine begged the other boy to please stop. With a heartbreaking cry, he felt his shoulder pop out of place as he tried in vain to wrench his arm from Karofsky's grip. He screamed as Karofsky pressed harder, pushing the knife all the way through and severing his fingers. As soon as Karofsky let go of his arm, Blaine pulled his hand to his chest and cradled it. Karofsky watched the other boy with satisfaction as he shook with sobs and fear.

Burt's chest was pounding and he started to worry that he might be on the verge of another heart attack. He couldn't stop the sob that burst from his chest when Blaine had realized what Karofsky was about to do. The Capitol was a disaster. The audience had never reacted so passionately to the Games, and the streets quickly turned to anarchy. Government officials finally declared a state of emergency and started forcing citizens to return home. Burt had never seen anything like it, but he was too isolated inside his own head to consider the implications.

Kurt's blood ran cold every time he heard Blaine cry out. His boyfriend was in pain, he was being tortured, and Kurt was still trying to get to him. Selfless to the last, Blaine had screamed for Kurt to run. To save himself. As if Kurt could abandon him now. He didn't know what he could possibly do to stop Karofsky, but he couldn't leave Blaine to die alone. Kurt let out a sigh of relief when the corridors shifted, finally leading him into the room where Karofsky was hurting Blaine.